Rose, The Chosen One
by sirtechlocke
Summary: This is the first story in the Series - Rose is Red... With embarrassment, not blood. Uh, hopefully


Disclaimer: The only thing I own is any OC character's created by me...

"She is trying too hard."

Surreptitiously watching her student the teacher flinched. Her young protege almost twisted her ankle coming out of a Grand Jete`. Grimacing the elder dancer strides into the studio as the Diva she is and with a single snap of her fingers stops the young girl from hurting herself.

"Young Lady," she begins, strutting around her student. Inwardly the instructor smirked as her student stood at what could only be described as military attention. "You are one of my brightest and best student. Everything I have taught you, you have learnt practically right away."

The statuesque woman pauses in front of her errant student with her hands on her slim hips. Pursing her full lips she blew exasperatingly at a stray blond lock that kept escaping her tied-back hair. Her blue eyes flashed in frustrated ire as she continued while her student stood, rooted to the spot, her hands writhing amongst each like a nest of disturbed snakes.

"While it's true that practice makes perfect..." she paused thoughtfully. "What makes you think you're invulnerable? Hmmm? What makes you think my rules do not apply to you? What makes you think you are better than any of my other students? I had stated you are my brightest, but that doesn't make you my best student, I hope you realize." The teachers dance heels clicked on the linoleum as she had continued around one more time. Once more she halted, facing the teenaged student. Her expression morphed from professional disinterest to a truly ferocious glower. This young Dancer unconsciously stepped back from the heat of her instructors gaze. Dropping her eyes lest they be burnt to cinders the teen continued to worry her hands to a nub.

This willowy dance instructor reached out and with motherly patience pulled her students chin up with just the tip of her graceful fingers. Meeting eyes, the girl gulped past the sudden lump in her throat.

"Dear child," softly, so softly the older woman crooned. "I demand a lot from my dancers. But one thing I do not demand, nor will I tolerate, is on of my brightest stars 'overdoing it' and causing injury to herself!"

Her voice rose towards the end signifying her concern and distress. This young diva opened her mouth in preparation for her defense. Her teacher, however; headed her of at the pass. Raising a peremptory finger she declaimed, "AH! Not a word Young Diva!"

Smiling fondly to remove the sting she ordered, "Now, you are to do soft, slow stretches. Once done you will go home, soak in an Epsom salt bath and then you will sleep." "How long should I sleep ma'am?" the student lightly taunted tilting her head to one side.

Chuckling throatily she jested, "As long as it takes you cheeky child." With a mothers concern she inquired, "Rose. Is everything alright at home? Or is it school? Boyfriends? _Girlfriends_?"

At each question Rose shook her head "No". Until the last, which surprised a mock outrage of "Ms. Leighton!" followed by outright laughter that soon descended to giggles. Generously ending with a familial hug and a low, "I love you, Ms. Leighton."

Then the genial aura disbursed as they separated to their individual tasks. One to finish her stretches and the other to finish her paperwork. Ms. Leighton also had to complete and send off her reports to that oh-so-secret society. Unfortunately, she was late and had to play 'catch-up'. Her thoughts crowded with odious facts, figures, and how best to put a spin on her reports caused her to miss the blinking light signifying messages recorded on her answering machine. Some quiet minutes later Ms. Leighton was startled from the deep morass of paperwork that littered her desk.

"Goodnight Ms. Leighton." Rose chirped from the office door.

"Goodnight dear child." a startled pause, then "Oh my dear, it is falling to night isn't it? Do you need a ride home Rose?"

"No ma'am, Jenny's gonna give me a ride." Rose replied softly.

"All right dear, do be careful." Ms. Leighton extolled.

"Yes ma'am." came the exasperated response from over Rose's shoulder. As if she couldn't take care of herself? She was sixteen. And a half! Well, in a month it would be a half, but still!

Ms. Leighton fondly watched her prize pupil flounce lightly through the dance studio's front door. Her gaze then fell leadenly upon the quagmire of forms, letters, and bills, Oh my!, upon her desk. Again she marveled that the old, tired piece of wood had not collapsed from the sheer weight of dross that rested upon it. Actually she was pretty sure that anything hidden from view was replicating much the same way as an amoeba reproduces.

Sighing despairingly she caught the flashing light out of the corner of her vision. Surrendering to fate she pressed the play button for her slave driving recording machine. She was sure there was an imp or gremlin that took great joy in shocking her much like a joy buzzer when touching the infernal device. Or it could just be not wanting to hear the stilted computerized voices demanding that she pay her bills. Alas.

"Hmmm, only 3 messages this time." she mused. "Must be a Holiday!"

On the third message, "Penny, it's Rupert." came the tinny voice from the thrice-cursed collection of wires and plastic. She had almost started day-dreaming, while listening to bill collectors drone on of how much she owed, of camel fleas nesting in their unmentionables. She was just getting to the actual amount of insects per nest when her old friend came on. As the recording droned on Penny grew concerned until worry exploded full blown in her chest.

"He sounds so tired. Not his usual vibrant self" noticed Penny. She had been leaning back, her long dance toned legs kicked up, ankles crossed. Suddenly, her heeled feet clapped to the floor. Sitting up in alarm Penny rewound the tape and listened attentively.

"...-entials are being killed Penny. Creatures, once human, called 'Bringers' are hunting them down. The are murdering their Watchers as well. Penny, you must contact Roses' parents, explain the situation to them. They will understand. I hope I am not too late, as we are going to close the Hellmouth. Good luck to you Penny and God Bless!" Penny Leighton, decisive by nature, bit her bottom lip in indecision. Her thoughts skittered across the landscape of her mind like roaches trying to escape a suddenly lit room. Finally her heart and mother's instinct succinctly ordered her brain to be still. She confidentially rose from her office chair knowing what she needed to do, the only thing to do... Protect the child at all cost!

Gracefully running, even in heels, Penny sped to the back of the studio where she kept her emergency supplies. In a trice she changed into her street clothes, threatening to break the sound barrier several times in her haste. Like an antelope she bounded to the front doors, the canvas tote clanging to beat the rhythm. Penny almost forgot to lock the front door as she twisted towards her car.

The ringing of her cell phone brought her up short. Hoping against hope Penny fumbled the device open willing it to be Rose to let her know she was safe and sound. Unfortunately it was Jennifer, the girl Rose had stated would give her a ride home.

"Jennifer? Did you get Rose home so soon?" Penny worriedly inquired.

"No Ms. Leighton." Jennifer replied happily. The sweet child was always so... happy. It worried Penny quite a bit. "I was just calling to see if you, uh, would let her know that I wouldn't be able to make it. Oh! And to ask you to take her? Please?"

"Oh dear lord!" groaned Penny. "Jennifer, sweety, I really need to go now as Rose has obviously decided to walk home when you didn't show at the promised time!" She had continued on towards her vehicle while verbally spanking another of her students. Not bothering to say good bye, Penny hung up, unlocked her car, threw her bag in the back, all the while muttering about the fate of the world going to that special place in a hand basket due to this new generation.

Unbeknown to the fledgling vampire trying to sneak up behind her, Penny slipped a sharpened stake that doubled as a family heirloom out of her tote. Continuing to mutter about the sad state of affairs in the world today she whirled, with a quick thrust and poke the fledgling burst into dust. Through long practice Penny blew on the dust drifting towards her, waved her free hand to scatter the rest of the remains of a short-lived (unlived) vampire and flounced into the driver seat. Her diatribe now moved onto silly Yanks and driving on the wrong side of the street Penny squealed out of her parking spot to barrel down the road.

An unbidden, unwanted, and thoroughly frightening fear of not being on time threatened to squeeze off any air supply left to the frustrated woman. Finally, she gave in and prayed for the first time in a long time.

"Dear God in heaven above. Please allow me to be in time!"

here...


End file.
